Pure life-skills player? Sightseeing player?
Sharlock was pretty curious about these two new terms, and Bru explained them right away. One listen and Sharlock got it: in plain words, absolute pacifists — devoted to farming, building, smithing, and other work that never involves fighting anyone, plus a love of scenery.
Sharlock looked around at the tunnels dug out everywhere, the diamonds piled everywhere, and the weapons and tools Simba had forged — stacked outside the smithy like scrap iron for lack of anywhere to put them. What scenery was there to see HERE?
But whatever. Sharlock had no plans to interfere with his servants' freedom of lifestyle. Love fighting, love farming, love smithing, love the domestic life — as long as they contributed to the dungeon instead of standing around spacing out, that was fine by him! And even if they didn't contribute, so what? No wages to pay either way. Sure, he's planting flowers NOW, but later he can follow the little pixie around and learn herb growing, can't he? As for whether the pixie would ever be willing to work for him — that question worried Sharlock not at all. There was plenty of time.
The other players' training had only just begun — getting them to basic combat competence so they could go unwind at the playground would probably take a few more days. Sharlock set these trivial matters aside and started planning the dungeon's latest arrangements.
Current buildings, item one: the dungeon core hall, which had already existed when he bought the dungeon. Outside the hall, a short distance away, the smithy on the open ground. The newly dug space on the left was being used for food storage; further down lay the big stretch of flowerbed fields opened up for planting; on the right, the newly carved-out training ground. And currently being dug: the collective dormitory for the dungeon's residents. A hundred-person dorm would take a while yet to finish.
Once the dorm was dug out, he'd still need to buy furniture for it — bunk beds at the bare minimum, after all. More money down the drain. The five hundred-odd magic stones left on Sharlock's card were earmarked exactly for that furniture.
Whatever else you could say, the dungeon was finally getting on track — one step closer to Sharlock's ultimate goal: the greatest Demon King's castle of them all!
While Sharlock was busy planning out the dungeon's new zones, the players in training were already losing their minds — because training was BRUTAL!
Moros did have some genuine skills — in his youth he'd been a legit legendary gladiator who'd licked blood off the blade. Sure, the arenas he'd fought in were probably the lowest-tier kind, but that was plenty to coach these goblins.
Moros collected short swords and armor from Simba the blacksmith, then called up a few players for drills. The players were, predictably, no match for him — he knocked them every which way, and even Arthur, who'd volunteered for the challenge, ended up under Moros's foot. Moros declared on the spot:
"You are the WORST batch I have EVER trained!"
And that wasn't just a catchphrase — they really WERE the worst batch. There'd been no such creature as a goblin among the gladiators Moros had trained. He'd come in mentally prepared, holding no great hopes for goblin combat technique — but the otherworldly players before him were beyond "poor." Even a goblin who couldn't fight could at least pick up a sword and dare to swing it at someone with his eyes shut!
But these players? Couldn't even hold a sword steady. The killer part: they couldn't even HIT the person they were swinging at!
Moros had one player take up a weapon and spar against another — but the two of them just clanged away, ping-ping-pong-pong, their swords never once aiming at each other's bodies; it was like they were aiming for each other's WEAPONS. Technically a back-and-forth exchange, but what's the point of that? Moros figured it was a one-off, so he called up a few more pairs — same result. Aside from the odd player going for the vitals, the great majority had no idea where on a body a sword was even supposed to go.
This would not do. In an actual fight, if you don't even know WHERE to cut, how are you supposed to fight?!
"Have none of you ever held a sword before? Never once chopped at another person?"
Moros stared at the players before him. He refused to believe that out of this many people, not even one had combat experience.
Readers are seeing an unapproved copy from the author's official page; the author's published version is where support goes.
"Teacher! We're all newbies — we've only been playing a few days! This is our first combat training ever!"
"I've never chopped a person, but we've chopped SPIDERS!"
"Yeah, yeah, we've totally chopped spiders!"
That perked Moros right up — so they HAD fought subterranean spiders! How'd that go?
The players all started talking over each other about their Spider Nest push — which had, of course, been a totally one-sided massacre. Yes, they'd "chopped spiders," but they'd been too terrified to even open their eyes at the time, swinging their weapons wildly with eyes squeezed shut. Even the hits that landed on spiders had landed with their eyes closed.
Once he'd heard the players' descriptions, Moros understood: even their "spider-chopping" was just being shoved onto the field to deliver dinner to the spiders. Why His Lordship was sending these goblins out as spider catering, Moros couldn't fathom — but his job was to train them into proper warriors, and fighting this timid and hesitant could NEVER produce a proper warrior!
After a quick read of the players' fundamentals, Moros faced facts: on top of teaching them basic combat technique — sword grip, the cuts, the thrusts, all the foundational moves — he'd also need live combat to grow them fast. Otherwise, turning them into proper warriors within one month was flat-out too tall an order.
Moros did not want to lose this job. One month of probation — and if he couldn't produce proper warriors fast, how would he prove himself to Dungeon Lord Sharlock? Consider: a twenty-magic-stone monthly wage was only even possible HERE. There would be no second dungeon that trained goblins in combat technique — goblins existed to be pack mules!
And to forge proper warriors inside one month, he'd need some unconventional methods: LIVE combat training! One-on-one sparring between players could hone skills too, but experience gained that way came far too slowly. They needed to face down genuinely dangerous live training!
For instance: fighting a LIVE subterranean spider! Moros decided he'd lead them to the Spider Nest to capture a straggler. Back in the arena, this was a standard way to train gladiators — the ones who endured it became fine warriors in no time!
Once Moros had decided, he told Sharlock, and Sharlock approved on the spot — on the condition that proper safety precautions be taken before training.
"My lord! Rest assured — I will absolutely not let your servants die for nothing!" Moros said with utmost seriousness.
"No, I mean safety precautions for YOU. If things get dangerous, your first priority is protecting yourself — never mind the other goblins." So said Sharlock.
Moros never imagined His Lordship would care about HIM so much — and seem not to care one bit whether the goblins lived or died. He was moved beyond all measure.
Since Moros had proposed a live subterranean spider as the training opponent, step one was being able to CONTROL a subterranean spider. There was no time to build a big iron cage or an arena, so the only option was having Simba the blacksmith throw together a big iron chain. Sharlock planned to make a trip to the Spider Nest himself and pick out a straggler to bring back — but just as he was about to leave, Moros beside him volunteered:
"My lord! Please, leave this task to me! As your goblin coach, I must show you my true strength! And besides — for those goblins, it'll be a training exercise too!"
Seeing how serious Moros looked, Sharlock nodded. This was a fine chance to test Moros's real ability anyway — if he couldn't even bring back one subterranean spider, that twenty-magic-stone monthly wage would be money badly wasted.
With Sharlock's nod in hand, Moros marched straight to the training ground and announced that he'd be capturing a subterranean spider to use for everyone's training. Then he asked:
"Anyone willing to come with me? I need the bravest goblins!"
Moros had assumed only a scattered few would raise their hands — goblins, after all, were cowardly by nature, creatures who'd never face danger head-on! But he'd barely finished speaking when every single player in front of him shot a hand into the air, clamoring: Read the latest chapters at g.com.
"Me! PICK ME!"
"Damn! I KNEW there'd be a hidden quest! Should've tried harder during training just now!"
Moros stood there dumbstruck. These goblins... weren't they afraid of dying?
As mind-bending as this batch's courage was, Moros obviously couldn't take them ALL — too big a group would easily stir up a whole swarm of subterranean spiders. He planned to bring just ten goblins, and quickly set about picking suitable ones — mainly those whose training performance had been passable.
Once Moros had made his picks, Sharlock — considering that these players were all combat-virgin noobs — thought it over and issued a quest to the selected otherworldly players through the dungeon core "Bru."
【Special Quest: The Newbie Trainer's Training Prop】
【Quest Brief: Skill trainer Moros has decided to capture a subterranean spider to use as a training prop. You have been honored with selection. Moros will lead you in completing this quest.】
【Quest Rewards: Players given this quest will receive free Hiltless Shortswords and armor before departure. Completing the quest awards one hundred copper coins.】
【Dungeon Reputation Reward: 500 points.】
【Note: If Moros dies before returning to the dungeon, the quest fails. As long as Moros does not die, this quest has no time limit and may be completed repeatedly.】
Moros was just about to set out with the ten players before him, under the envious-to-the-point-of-red-eyed gazes of all the other players — when he suddenly noticed the ten of them swivel their heads toward him in perfect unison.
"Coach! Whatever you do, DON'T die! If it gets dangerous, you turn around and RUN!"
The goblin called xX_ShadowBlade_Xx had seized Moros's hand and was practically begging as he shouted it.
══════════════════════ DUNGEON LORD'S NOTE ═══════════════════════
Worst batch he'd ever trained, says coach Moros — players aimed at each other's swords, not bodies — then he asked for spider-capture volunteers and every hand shot up.
Real talk: how fast are you raising your hand?
Five stars plus a quick review equals one fully charged dungeon core — you'd be doing Bru a solid!